


shaking out the sheets

by DragonEyez



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Mention of injuries, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season: Spring in Hieron, Spring in Hieron Spoilers, Trans Male Character, samot makes me write the WORST purple prose, those last three ships are only mentioned in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 18:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17965505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonEyez/pseuds/DragonEyez
Summary: “That’swhyI’m laughing.” Hadrian unbuckled his belt for him. This too was new. He had never  felt so at ease with Samot Before. Time in Aubade had changed him, learning that Samothes was a god, yes, but also just a person at the end of the day had lead to a better sense of comfort. Samot was many things. Wolf, God, King, Prince, Man. “We’re no longer in dreams. Things can’t be so easy anymore.”





	shaking out the sheets

**Author's Note:**

> title from [make it holy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uvZE-A9hhk) by the staves, which started playing right as sih18 ended for me and i was possessed with the intense need to write this IMMEDIATELY after finishing my lemmanuel piece

He’d left Rosana after their traditional post-dinner tea. She’d only given him an understanding smile and taken his cup, which he was undeniably grateful for. He still didn’t know how to talk to people who were only people anymore, but he was trying, and she knew it. Certain things would always be easy between them. It was something that only passed between people who had been together for long enough to grow into each other in a way that such closeness could breed. He didn’t _need_ to scramble to explain himself, she knew what he would have tried to say regardless, and he loved her for it. 

He needed no cloak; the spring was nearing the point of constant temperatures and beautiful days. Still, he found himself longing for the wolfskin Samot had gifted him now so many years ago. It would be a sense of comfort to have, but he supposed he no longer really needed it, did he?

Samot was waiting for him in his chambers, pen already set down as Hadrian hesitantly pushed the door open. In the back of his mind he noted how the hinges must have been oiled recently. Samot looked radiant as ever, but Hadrian could see how the years had affected him too. There were wrinkles that he didn’t remember seeing previously, greying at the temples, a weariness in his eyes. Grief had carved its own canyons as well. But still, he was beautiful.

“Hadrian.” Samot greeted him with a smile, standing with an ease that had only been recently granted to him. If Hadrian himself hadn’t treated him on the operating table he would scarcely be able to believe he had been on death’s doorstep only weeks before; If the starstuff didn’t shine through Samot’s thin robes. 

“My- Samot.” He corrected himself. Basked in Samot’s soft laugh at his self-correction. He crossed the room to meet Hadrian, gently holding the side of his face with one cool hand. 

“Am I no longer your lord, my dear Hadrian?” He was teasing, Hadrian knew, but he also knew enough to hear the note of sadness within the question. He covered Samot’s hand with his own, meeting Samot’s eyes. “I’ve put down my sword. The next time I pick it up, it will be for my own will and no other’s. But of _course_ I am yours. A part of me will have always been claimed by you.”

“Old habits die hard, I suppose. But come now. I didn’t ask you to join me just to be morose and petulant.”

Hadrian swallowed hard. He noticed his mouth was suddenly dry. “And why _did_ you call me then?”

The answer was a wolf’s smile, playful and predatory, and it felt like the old days when they could only ever meet in dreams. This, though, was no dream, and games of cat and mouse were far past. “Come, Hadrian. We both know, and it has been a long time. Would you please do me the honor?”

“Happily, my l- Samot.”

“If you still want to call me your lord, Hadrian, you need only say so, you silly man. You will never be seen as a pawn in my eyes. I have grown too respectful and too fond of you for anything else.” Samot slid his thumb over Hadrian’s lips, and Hadrian didn’t even bother to hide the tremble it caused him. “However, I also find no problem with simply being your Samot.”

He leaned down and kissed Samot, but, like so many other things, time had changed this too. No longer was this the desperate kiss of a wild god and a man who feared to believe something like this was _allowed_. Samot was still wild and Hadrian still in awe. Such things didn’t change. But Hadrian set the pace slow and Samot allowed it. He tasted the wine Samot had doubtlessly been enjoying earlier, smelled the way that dust and starstuff and the ever present _otherworldliness_ culminated into the man making him melt into the floor.

There was no way to be sure who had made the first move, but Hadrian soon found himself upon the bed, Samot sitting in his lap hungrily reaching for his belt. Hadrian laughed when he made a frustrated noise and pulled away, clearly having trouble multitasking. 

“Don’t laugh at me.” Samot _pouted_ , pulling his hand away from Hadrian’s belt. “Usually I don’t have to work quite so hard to get you out of your clothes.”

“That’s _why_ I’m laughing.” Hadrian unbuckled his belt for him. This too was new. He had never felt so at ease with Samot Before. Time in Aubade had changed him, learning that Samothes was a god, yes, but also just a person at the end of the day had lead to a better sense of comfort. Samot was many things. Wolf, God, King, Prince, Man. “We’re no longer in dreams. Things can’t be so easy anymore.”

“True, But I’m all the more pleased for it. I’m happier for having you here, heart beating beneath my palms, guaranteed to remain once we’re done.” As he said “heart beating,” he slid his hands under Hadrian’s shirt, feeling up his chest, making his breath catch. “Aren’t you, Hadrian?”

“ _Yes_.” 

Samot pulled his shirt over his head easily, pushed him down to the mattress. The whisper of Samot’s own silken robes against his skin was as intoxicating as any wine he’d ever shared with the man, and he whispered his name like a prayer. 

“I’m right here Hadrian. Just ask.”

“I...I want you. Please.”

“And you have me. What do you want?”

Pinned by his eyes and hips, Hadrian found himself unable to do much but whine and cant his hips in hopes that Samot would be merciful. Samot was all too used to taking charge of their liaisons and only smiled fondly, rolling right against the tent forming in Hadrian’s pants, clearly pleased at the effect he was having. “If you can’t use your words, we might just have to stop.”

“I don’t know what I want.” Hadrian’s hands raised to rest on Samot’s legs, or hips, or anything he could touch, but he stopped himself, unsure of whether or not he was allowed to. “I just...whatever you wish. _Please_.”

 

Samot leaned forward and stretched to push himself lengthwise over Hadrian’s torso, boxing in his head with either of his hands. Their faces were mere inches from each other and Hadrian found himself short of breath. “And what if what I wished was to have my way with you until I was satisfied and then return to my work, leaving you tied to my bed, squirming and desperate? Would you want even that, Hadrian?”

“If it would-” He was cut off by the man grinding down on him again, making it nearly impossible for him to _think_ , let alone attempt to speak. “ _Samot please_.”

The god offered him a wicked grin, mimicking innocence. “Something the matter?”

Hadrian tried to collect his thought, a near impossible task with Samot doing his best to prevent everything he managed to get out, “If it would please you, then yes. Anything.”

A strange, tender look passed over Samot’s face, and he adjusted himself so he could run a hand over Hadrian’s face. 

“Oh, my Hadrian. Ever ready to serve up himself for others. What shall I do with you?”

“Hopefully,” Hadrian smiled. “Something sooner rather than later.”

“Hmmph.” Samoth closed the distance between them and kissed him. This wasn’t the slow, soft kiss of earlier. This was a kiss that was meant to devour him whole, and Hadrian could only moan and writhe under the Last Wolf and let him. Eventually, like all things, it ended. And Hadrian looked up at Samot with stars in his eyes. “I think I liked you better when you were too devout to tease back.”

But he knew he didn’t mean it, because he finally let up enough to slide down Hadrian’s pants and smalls in one tug, exposing his leaking cock to the cold air of the room.

“I think I will use you after all. But first, undress me.”

Eagerly, Hadrian moved to pull the silken robes from Samot’s body. He was mindful of his wounds, gentle in his movements, pausing at every noise of pain or wince. Once Samot sat before him unrobed and regal as ever, Hadrian paused, not sure if what he wanted to do next would be permitted. Somehow Samot managed to look more kingly and intimidating in nothing at all.

Noticing his hesitation, Samot leaned forward. “What is it? Is my body now unsightly?”

“No! No! Never. It is only-” He gestured at his body. “May I touch you?”

Samot laughed and moved to lay back against the pillows. “Hadrian. I’m going to fuck you. I should _hope_ you would touch me.” Hadrian blushed at the teasing, but moved forward, gingerly reaching out to first touch Samot’s face, then down to the now-healed starstuff scars that littered Samot’s torso. He leaned over to softly kiss each one, as if paying penance for each one he couldn’t heal himself. Samot laid a hand lightly on his head, not directing, just holding, as if he needed a tether of his own. Once Hadrian finished his task, he looked back to Samot.

“How best can I please you?”

After a thoughtful pause, Samot shifted so that he sat once more astride Hadrian’s hips, hovering just so slightly above Hadrian’s weeping cock, and the man had to bit back a moan. “I’m going to fuck myself on your cock and I want you vocal, but keep your hands to yourself.”

 

He waited for Hadrian’s affirmation of his instructions (a jerky nod), before slowly, tortuously slowly, sinking down. Hadrian gasped at the sensation of wet, tight heat engulfing him, and he had to restrain himself from reflexively bucking his hips up. Samot looked to be adjusting as well, eyes closed in something near to satisfied bliss. He sat for a few moments, making little gyrations before he lifted up entirely and sank back down.

“Mmm, Hadrian.” He opened his eyes and looked at Hadrian, fixing him to the bed like a butterfly he wanted to put on display. “You fill me up so well, always. My solid, constant Hadrian, always so willing to please, so willing to be _obedient_.” As he picked up the pace, his words were punctuated with little gaps or moans, in turn making Hadrian keen and do his best no to writhe or reach for Samot’s hips. He wanted _something_ to grab onto something to secure himself.

(For a moment, he wished that either of them had thought to tie him to the bed posts after all, like they had done once before, long ago in a different place altogether but a similar bed in similar circumstance.s. Then, Harian could only attempt to grab for the chords and hold on as Samot took him apart piece by piece by piece). 

“Do others know of your willingness to serve? To just be useful? Did my husband know for all those years you spent with him locked away from the world?”

“Y- yes.” Hadrian groaned.

“Yes to which part?”

“To all of it. Rosana-” And the thought of her hands, strong and steady, and how she would run them along his body, content to just _feel_ and be patient until he was pliant and waiting. Until he was ready to give her all of himself and more (he was already ready to do so. He would tear himself apart if she asked it of him, and she never would).”

“They take such good care of you, don’t they? Samot was growing close to his climax, he could tell by the way his nails, more claws than anything, began dragging furrows down his chest, as he threw his head round and shook. “If I asked, would you let me, as hell?”

“Please, please, plays, let me touch you now?” His arms were still laying at his sides, waiting for Samot to give the word.

“Yes yes yes. Use your fingers, I’m close.”

Hadrian moved to hold onto Samot’s thigh with one hand and to work his clit with the other. He had deft fingers and knew how to make Samot come undone quickly. Before long, the Wolf stilled, and with a cry, found his pleasure. Hadrian toppled over the edge after him, and his fingers stilled as he, too, shook with a low moan. 

Once the aftershocks had worked through them, and they were tired and sated, Samot laid next to Hadrian, curling protectively around him. Slowly, Hadrian lifted a hand to card through the other man’s shorn hair. He was still unused to the way it ended abruptly at the nape of his neck, a stark difference to how it had been before. But still, it was beautiful. “Samot.”

“Hmmm?”

“You always have. You already have. So many times.” He didn’t clarify what he meant, and he didn’t need to.

In lieu of a proper answer, Samot only moved closer. “Will you stay through the night this time?”

\---

Waking up still next to Samot was a novel concept, Hadrian thought as he slowly opened his eyes to see the way the sunlight lit up the stained glass window, casting a magnificent glow across Samot’s still-sleeping face. But it was something he hoped to experience again.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, comments and constructive criticism is always welcome and i can be found [here](https://theunacceptablepylades.tumblr.com/) on tumblr or [@thedaedpoets](https://twitter.com/thedaedpoets) on twitter. and if you like what i do, consider buying me a [coffee](https://ko-fi.com/queerlydeparted)


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